


Undeserving of your love

by BehindBrokenWindows



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crying, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 06:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11846169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BehindBrokenWindows/pseuds/BehindBrokenWindows
Summary: John repeated the other man's name again and again and ran his fingers through his hair, felt him and held him and wouldn't ever let go because this was Sherlock and if John let go he might never get a moment like this again.





	Undeserving of your love

Once John moved back to baker street there was a mutual understanding between the men. It didn't take more than a look. They said it all in those few short seconds their eyes met as John walked into the now restored living room after finally bringing all his things back. It had been a long day.

Their eyes lingered and silence crowded the room with its misty, heavy presence.

Two weeks later, and they hadn't had a single moment of peace. Rosie always needed attention, Lestrade was almost just as bad, and they were so tired, but they did cases anyway in a desperate attempt to bring back a touch of normality - of what they'd had... _before_. Before everything happened. But they could barely remember what that had felt like, it was like they were different people now, with different wants and needs and understandings. What if they couldn't go back to the simple days? The simple days when John repressed his emotions and Sherlock struggled to understand his, but at least they were happy, at least they were together and it was them that counted and everyone else could go about their own business except if they had something extraordinary to say.

Now the tension was different from before. They'd tried to hide what they felt, before. Now, it was blatantly obvious, and _still_ they were miles apart.

John caught Sherlock's lingering glances, he saw the man hesitate and stutter and blush when John smiled or stood too close, or handed him Rosie. He knew what Sherlock felt.

And Sherlock knew what John felt. John was more reserved, more controlled. He didn't stutter and he didn't blush. There was something steadfast and certain about him but he didn't even hide the fact that Sherlock's lips had him staring for too long. Not even when they were out on a case.

But they didn't have the time, there was always something. And when there was nothing in the way, they were too tired. John looked at Sherlock before he went to his room, and he didn't say anything.

Sherlock watched him walk up the stairs and he didn't call him back.

But he wanted to, and he should.

John didn't know how long he'd been back in Baker Street before they had a day entirely to themselves, but it was too long and they were both too tired to do anything at all.

John had a glass of wine in the evening, but Sherlock didn't want one. He made room for the doctor on the couch and they sat together in silence. It was now or never, wasn't it? John had had the same feeling of importance and finality so many times before that he doubted his right to another chance.

Sherlock was too close to John to be able to doubt anyone or anything. The smell of John's deodorant was pleasant and he hadn't fixed his hair that morning. He looked positively dashing.

John didn't need to say anything. Sherlock turned in his seat and suddenly they were facing each other, only inches away. That's when John doubted himself.

Did he want this, or was it all the remnant of his old fancy for Sherlock? What if it wasn't real anymore?

It became very real when Sherlock leaned in and closed pink cupid's bow lips around John's.

It was soft and careful and a bit tense. It wasn't what they'd expected.

Then Sherlock smiled into the kiss and John felt it. He didn't know he was crying until Sherlock brought his hand up to cup his face and drew away in horror.

"Oh, John! I'm so sorry, I thought -" Sherlock stopped talking when John brought a hand up to pat his curls down and offered a wobbly smile that lit up his face despite the redness of his eyes.

"It's alright," John muttered, trying to keep his voice steady. "God knows I've wanted this long enough." It didn't make sense to Sherlock.

"But, you're crying. Why?" John puffed out air in something that resembled a chuckle and shook his head.

"I'm happy, Sherlock. I'm crying because I'm happy."

"Why would you do that?" Sherlock asked with confusion clearly written on his face.

"Because I love you. And I'm thinking about all the times I almost told you. Do you want to know? I could list them all, Sherlock." Sherlock could only nod. John pecked him on the lips and lingered there, hovering just millimetres away.

"I'll just tell you the more important ones for now, we have plenty of time for details later.

"The first time I wanted to tell you that I loved you was when you ripped my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool. Then it was the new years eve during the case with The Woman. And the time you were so scared at the inn in Baskervilles. And especially when..." John stopped talking as his throat constricted painfully. "... when you were about to jump. And I wanted to scream it at you when you came back, and then when I thought we were about to be blown to pieces. I wanted to tell you I loved you on my wedding day, and when I thought you'd leave me again. I wanted to tell you when we baptised Rosie and when Mary died. I wanted to tell you I love you when I saw you in the back of Mrs Hudson's car and after I beat you, and later when I interrupted Smith. I wanted to tell you when I asked you to take your chance with Irene and later when you hugged me. I wanted to tell you when you had to tell Molly, and when you helped me out of that well. And I've wanted to tell you every day since I moved back here. That's why I'm crying, Sherlock. Because I never did.

"And look at us now."

"What about us?" Sherlock's voice was unnaturally high, his words unusually strained.

"We could have had so much more, Sherlock. And I'm so tired." He put both hands on Sherlock's face and brought him close, skimming his lips as tears welled in his eyes again and a sob escaped him. _I love you_. "And I don't know what I'll do if this is just a dream. If I were to wake up, and you wouldn't be here. What then? What would I be without you?"

"You're not sleeping, John. You'll always have me. Always." John buried his hands in Sherlock's curls and brought him to him until Sherlock's forehead rested on John's shoulder and John clutched him tight as another sob racked through him and Sherlock let his arms slide around John soothingly.

John repeated the other man's name again and again and ran his fingers through his hair, felt him and held him and wouldn't ever let go because this was Sherlock and if John let go he might never get a moment like this again.

Sherlock pulled away to look at John and his eyes were filled with tears too.

"We have all the time in the world, John." He cupped the doctor's face in an effort to convince him. "All the time in the world and we'll do whatever we like with it."

"And what would you like to do with it?" John asked and opted for playful, but it wasn't successful.

In response, Sherlock reconnected their lips and they weren't entirely separated until noon the next day.

**Author's Note:**

> :')
> 
> Comments and Kudos are very much appreciated!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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